Unfamiliar Emotions
by Lady-Ladris
Summary: Drake Merwin hates Diana Ladris. He also hates the new girl, Darla. Maybe it's a thing he has for girls. But when he starts feeling a bit possessive towards Darla and she starts to tolerate him, how will they handle it? Drake doesn't love, doesn't like, and Darla tries to suppress it. Can they really call it love? Rated T because I'm nervous. xD
1. Chapter 1

**Hi! Well, welcome to my first fanfiction. It's short, but the next chapters will get longer. I know this idea is overused, but I wanted to give it a go. I'm totally welcome to constructive criticism, ideas, and reviews!** **Just as a warning, this story will contain swearing, mentions of self harm (I'll warn you at the start of any chapters containing it) and possibly some kissing and stuff. xD**

She was sort of stunning.  
Petite, very curvy, olive skinned. The girl had very wild, curly black hair that fell to somewhere just below her shoulders, pushed back from her face a little by a wide white headband. Her eyes were hidden behind a pair of large tinted sunglasses.  
Diana could admit the girl was quite pretty, she wasn't one to get petty, but it was the way that the girl came and sat herself across from Drake Merwin without the slightest bit of hesitation that really caught her eye. Either this new girl was extremely stupid, very confident, or just hadn't heard about him. Perhaps a mixture. Raising a dark brow, Diana sipped her orange juice and decided to keep quiet for a moment as the scene played out.  
"New?" The single word came from Caine Soren, an attractive dark haired boy who had jumped at the chance to brainwash the new student almost immediately. Typical, really.  
"Yep. What gave it away?" She replied dryly, her eyes flickering to Caine briefly; she had removed her glasses now, and Diana could watch how quickly those icy blue eyes moved, cold and calculating.  
"Caine Soren," He grinned, offering her his hand like they had just closed some kind of business deal; she took it after a hesitation, let him shake her hand, then withdrew sharply.  
"This is Diana," Caine continued, nodding his head towards Diana, who just nodded and fixed the black haired girl with a gaze almost as searching as her own, "And Drake."  
"I wouldn't expect him to greet you. He's not very friendly," Diana rolled her eyes, drumming her nails on the table. "Drake, you're messing things up for Caine, here, and me. We're trying to be welcoming." She smirked, obviously trying to get at Drake, "Girls don't like being stared at like bits of meat, Drakey, that's not how you flirt."  
"Muzzle your bitch, Soren," Drake growled, but didn't insult Diana any further after Caine's warning glare.  
"Darla-Marie Kempshaw, by the way. Just Darla's fine." She cut in, having been watching the conversation with amusement, "Good to meet you, I think."  
"Well, it's good if you stay on my good side." Caine laughed jokingly, but there was omething about him that Darla wasn't quite sure about. Still, they seemed alright, even if they were a bit off; everyone in the school seemed to have something wrong, though, so Darla supposed it wasn't a big deal.  
"I appreciate you letting me sit here, by the way," Darla added, drinking from a half-empty bottle of some sort of energy drink as she finished speaking.  
"Didn't have much of a choice, really. Ypu parked your fat ass before we could say anything and then Soren started trying to be te welcoming committee." Drake snapped, narrowing his eyes.

"Aw, you were looking at my ass?" The retort was lame, in Darla's opinion, but it seemed to fluster Drake a bit, something that she hadn't really expected. Obviously angry, he got up, kicked over his chair, snarled at some younger kids who looked at him with curiosity and stormed out of the cafeteria, slamming the door for emphasis.

"You know what, new girl? I think you and I will get along just fine." Diana remarked, almost smiling, though not quite friendly. Diana Ladris was not somebody to be open and friendly, especially to strangers.


	2. Chapter 2

It was a Sunday morning, so there wasn't any class to go to or anything like that.

Following their first encounter in the cafeteria, Darla had been invited by that alluring brunette, Diana, to hang out with her and her 'friends' during the Sunday, at least for a while. At first, Darla had been reluctant, but her room-mate was driving her insane with all the incense burning and meditating she was doing, so Darla was grateful for an excuse to get out. It was a sunny day, so the group were settled outside, although Darla noted that they were somewhat distanced from where the other students were seated.

The only thing that really interested Darla at that moment in time was the way Caine seemed to be making things move with his mind, telekinesis, he called it; Darla had been amazed, naturally (though had done her best to suppress it), even after Diana shrugged and explained that it was just a Caine thing. Caine and Diana had had a brief conversation about 'bars', something Darla couldn't quite grasp, and then had resumed their previous activities: Diana was flipping through a magazine, Caine was showing off and discreetly trying to catch Diana's attention, and Drake was slicing bark off of a tree with a switch-blade while muttering to himself.

"Talking to yourself is the first sign of madness," Darla mused, coming to sit down on the grass in front of Drake, smirking to herself. God, he hated her smug expressions, she was like Caine and Diana's love-child or something. He'd love to get her where he wanted her, make her afraid, wipe that look from her face, but he knew he couldn't. At least, not yet- Caine was holding him back, as usual, just like he protected Diana, but Caine went home for the holidays and as far as Drake knew, Darla planned to remain at Coates. It was perfect, really; no classes, no Caine, just the vast grounds, his vendetta, and the newest object of his loathing.

"Yeah, well," Drake began to retort, then dug his knife into the tree until it was up to the hilt, furious at the fact that he couldn't think of anything.

"Aw, you're cute when you're mad," Darla laughed, leaning against the semi-mutilated tree, "You'd look cuter holding my hand."

"And you'd look cuter covered in your own blood, but we can't all live out our fantasies," Drake spat back, leaping up and stalking off, cursing under his breath.


	3. Chapter 3

"Wait, Drake, I wasn't finished talking to you!" Darla jumped up, black ringlets bouncing all over the place as she trotted after him. He was clearly annoyed, and it was amusing to her, although a part of her was telling her to get back within sight of Caine and Diana, something bad was about t-

"Listen," Drake snarled, turning and pinning her to the nearest tree with her arm pressed against her throat, slamming the knife into the part of the tree trunk right beside her left ear, clipping it and slicing through a curl of hair, "I've already got to deal with Ladris all the time because Soren can't muzzle his bitch, and now suddenly you turn up and walk right in with your whiny voice that never stops, your pathetic attempts at flirting, your stupid hair and your fat ass and think you can mess with me? Think again," He wrenched the knife from the tree and held it right against her cheek, the cool metal flat against her skin, which was flushed with surprise mingled with fear, yet also excitement. "I teach new kids a lesson, y'know."

"I figured, I've seen the way everyone shrinks away from you, I wanted to see how quickly you snapped," Darla wasn't giving in yet; she'd heard about how messed up Drake was, heard about all the things he had done, and she was pretty scared, who wouldn't be? Even so, she wasn't letting him win, not immediately, "What, you pissed off because I don't buy your tough-guy act?"

His fist connected with her right eye before she could continue, and her words became a yelp of pain rather than the remark she had been planning. If he didn't press himself against her to pin her to the tree again, she would have crumpled then and there.

"That tough enough for you?" He growled into her ear, dragging the knife across her cheek a bit to make her wince.

"Beating up a girl, that's real tough," Darla and another female voice replied at exactly the same time, making Drake look back and giving the fore-mentioned an opportunity to push him off by connecting one foot with his stomach.

"Oh, for god's sake, Ladris, do you have to interrupt everything?" Drake rubbed his stomach quickly, causing Diana to smirk and raise an eyebrow.

"Aw, Drakey, did your new plaything hurt you? Poor little baby, let momma Dians see," She cooed in a taunting voice that made Drake's blood boil.

"You're really gonna get it this time, whor-" And just as Drake lunged at the smug brunette, he was lifted up into the air by an even smugger (if that was possible) brunette.

"That's enough, Drake, count to ten or whatever the shrink said," Caine lazily flicked his wrist and Drake dropped to the ground again.

"Hey, new girl, you okay? Want momma Diana to-"

"Fuck off, Ladris, your jokes get old before they even come out of your ugly mouth," Darla spat, stalking off with a hand clamped over her bruised eye.

Drake raised his eyebrows and copied Diana's signature smirk just to infuriate her.

"Maybe the bitch and I can get along, after all."

Special thanks to Joyana and Slipknot2014 for reviewing!


	4. Chapter 4

Drake wandered around the empty room, bored, examining various things. From what he could see, Darla's room mate was a fan of some boy band, '5SOS', as was displayed on the posters plastered across the walls of half of the room. The other half, presumably Darla's half, was pristine; the bed was made, stationery kept in pots on the tidy desk, books arranged in size order on a shelf... His lips curled up into a smile when he noticed the amount of Stephen King- if she thought _that _was scary, just wait until he finally got his hands on her.

Moving over to a chest of drawers, he pulled open the top draw. Quite a lot of lacy underwear in there, and a Bible, too. Hm, he hadn't had her pinned down as the religious type. The next drawer and the one after that were just clothes, and the bottom drawer-

''What the fuck do you think you're doing?''

Drake straightened up and craned his neck so that he could look over his shoulder to the doorway, where Darla was standing, cheeks pink with either embarrassment or fury, holding an ice pack over the eye he had punched her in.

"Investigating," He shrugged, then furrowed his brow, "But I don't have to answer to you."

"Investigating? I think you mean looking through my underwear. Go bother Diana, she'd probably be into that," Darla took a step into the room, removing the ice pack from her eye and gingerly blinking it several times.

"I don't want to go near her, Caine won't muzzle the bitch and he won't let me discipline her," Drake rolled his eyes, though a brief smirk graced his thin lips as he thought about the things he'd do to that witch. Deciding to test his boundaries, he sat on Darla's pristine bed, "She's always so stupidly sarcastic, like she thinks she's tough."

"Cry me a river," Darla shot back, sitting down heavily next to him and dropping the ice pack beside her, "Why'd you hang out with her, if she's so annoying?"

"Well," Drake began, then trailed off, she had got him in check mate. The obvious answer was to say because of Caine and the alliance he had formed with Drake before Diana entered the equation, but no doubt Darla would ridicule him, or worse, fall silent and keep her opinions about him being a tool to herself, "I don't know, it's funny when I scare her."

"You scare most people here, don't think I haven't seen," Darla pointed out, raising a sculpted eyebrow. Drake had never cared much before, but Diana and Darla both looked after themselves, that was for sure, it was sort of nice.

"Most people? I think you mean everyone, darling," His grey eyes flickered to the black haired girl sat beside him, waiting for her reply.

"You don't scare me, Drake, don't flatter yourself. You're about as frightening as Casper the Friendly Ghost. I don't scare easy."

And before she knew it, she was pinned to her own bed by a blonde boy with narrowed eyes who was clamping her wrists so hard that she could almost feel the bruises forming.

"You don't scare easy? Baby doll, we'll see about that, now, won't we?" Drake leaned in so close that she felt his breath on her neck. After remaining like that in silence with her chest rising and falling heavily, he slid off of her, winked, and stalked out.

"Sleep with one eye open, babes."


	5. Chapter 5

_"__She can't help it,' he said. 'She's got the soul of a poet and the emotional makeup of a junkyard dog."_

With a sigh, Darla closed the book 'Under the Dome' and silently left the warmth of her bed to replace it in the gap in her book shelf. It was late or early, depending on the way you looked at it, and her room mate was long asleep, whereas Darla was still awake, unable to fall asleep no matter what position or sleep inducing method she tried; it was times like these that she resented leaving her lavender oil at home, that had always used to relax her. She just had a lot on her mind, right? There was no way that Drake had actually _frightened _her.

..Right?

Shaking her head as if she believed that would calm her down, Darla spun on her heel and crept back towards her bed, cringing when a floorboard creaked but getting back to bed without any further complications. After checking the room one last time, she buried herself beneath her duvet and squeezed her eyes shut tightly.

* * *

''You look awful.''

The blunt comment interrupted Darla's train of thought. Annoyed, she raised her head to see who had dared to disturb her- she had purposely chosen an empty table and had rejected anyone who even came close to her so she wouldn't have to speak to anyone.

''Wow, thanks.'' Darla snapped, narrowing her eyes when she recognised the face, ''Oh, for God's sake, can't you just leave me alone?''

''You should be flattered, I never waste this much time on a bitch like you,'' Drake shrugged, dropping into a chair, ''Let's see, then.''

''See what?'' Darla frowned, thoroughly confused. Suddenly, Drake reached out to grasp her hands and pulled them nearer to her, ''Hey, don't touch me.''

''Ha!'' Drake smirked triumphantly as he pushed up the sleeves of Darla's shirt and tapped the bruised flesh around her wrists, ''I told Soren I had a good grip.''

''Jesus Christ!'' Darla hadn't noticed the bruising when she was dressing that morning, but now she realised just how noticeable they were, ''Shit, how the hell am I supposed to explain these? I have PE today, idiot!''

''Didn't have you down as a blasphemist or someone who explains themselves much. You learn something new every day,'' Drake released her hands and folded his arms. He was pretty proud of those bruises, but he wasn't really in the mood for another meeting with a councillor to discuss his 'anger problem', so he couldn't just let her go and tell her teacher, ''Bunk off with me. I'm meant to be going to the library with Soren, you can just tag along.''

''And why would I want to go anywhere with you?'' Darla rolled her sleeves back down and did up the buttons for good measure.

''Well, because I said so? You're less likely to get sent back to class if you're with us, anyway, teachers tend to turn a blind eye,'' Drake shrugged one shoulder, leaning back in the plastic chair, ''You in, or not?''

''Oh, whatever, I don't care.'' Darla gave in, sighing, oblivious to the fact that there would be no PE lesson that day, for there would be nobody to take it.

* * *

**Just wanted to say thank you for all of the lovely reviews, they're very much appreciated! Ideas are welcomed!**


	6. Chapter 6

"But I _can't _do PE, my kit's gone missing,'' Darla pressed, folding her arms over her chest stubbornly.

''Miss Kempshaw, please don't be so difficult, just go and-''

Suddenly, as if somebody had flicked a switch, Darla was facing thin air.

''Huh..?" She frowned, trying to make sense of what had happened. Had her coach simply walked off to retrieve the hockey sticks from the shed? Maybe Darla simply hadn't noticed, that had to be it, people didn't just vanish.

''Um, where did Mrs Winters go? We're ready to start,'' A drawling voice cut through Darla's train of thought. Ugh, Amber Hill, just one of the many girls who got sent away for simple things like smoking, drinking, or sleeping with the wrong guys. Frankly, the way she chewed her bubblegum and made revolting squelching noises with it disgusted Darla.

''She pissed me off. Better run, you could be next,'' Darla waved her hands with a roll of her eyes, yet that seemed to be enough to send Amber scurrying away. Idiot. So, with the little brunette gone, Darla was alone again, with no answers. Well, maybe she could go check for adults somewhere else... Drake had been going to bunk off, right? Maybe she could head for the library and check that out.

* * *

The library had been empty, but the halls were far from it; students were beginning to emerge tentatively from classrooms, all looking as confused as Darla felt. By now, a sort of worry was twisting her stomach into knots- how could the disappearance of Mrs Winters be explained?

"Everybody! Everybody, stay calm! Head into the assembly hall, we'll discuss recent events in there!" A voice, oddly cheerful, rang through the hallway. Wait, that voice was familiar, was that... Soren? What?

"Didn't bother cutting class with me, then?'' The weight of an arm was suddenly draped across Darla's shoulders, and she impatiently shrugged Drake off.

''Doesn't look like you even ditched anyway,'' She commented, motioning to the classroom he had just exited.

"Couldn't be bothered, nothing to do except watch Soren show off,'' He shrugged one shoulder, "We're meant to meet him in the hall.''

''Playing dog now, hm?'' Darla raised her eyebrows and laid a hand on his forearm, ''You're better than that, you're stronger than he is. Why do you always settle for being second best?''

Drake was silent for a moment before he impatiently batted her hand away.

''Shut up, you don't know anything. Don't touch me. Come on, we're going,'' He snapped, grasping her wrist and nearly wrenching her arm from it's socket as he dragged her down the corridor.

* * *

**Sorry for the short chapter, writer's block is terrible!**

**I'll probably be doing a bit of a time-skip soon, how far do you think I should skip? **

**Reviews make me very happy and get chapters sooner!**

**Thanks guys, so glad to know people actually read this!**


	7. Chapter 7

"And so that's why I think we should have an assembly, do Diana can do her thing,'' Caine finished, folding his arms over his chest and looking around expectantly. Diana, Drake, and Darla were stood opposite him, both girls with the same bored yet somewhat amused expression, and Drake, well, he was unreadable.

''Sounds like a decent plan, I'll give you that,'' Diana nodded slowly.

''What do we do when we find out?'' Drake questioned, shifting his weight from one foot to the other.

''If you had been listening, you'd know,'' Caine sighed as if exasperated, ''That's actually where you come in. Find a way to eliminate the uncooperative. I'm not talking a mass-murder, just something to keep them out of my- I mean, our hair.''

''What are you gonna do, chop their hands off? Freeze them in carbonite? Encase them in a cement block?'' Darla rolled her eyes, ''Flaws in the plan.''

''Don't challenge me, you aren't even meant to be here,'' Caine said coldly; it was strange, Drake had insisted that Caine let her stay for the entirety of the meeting and he had eventually been forced to give in- he needed Drake for his plan.

''Looks like you're finally gonna get let off your lead again, hey, Drakey?'' Diana cut in with a laugh, leaning against Caine with a look that clearly challenged Drake when he took a threatening step forward.

At that, Darla muttered something, spun on her heel, and stalked off, slamming the door of the classroom behind her.

* * *

Knock, knock, knock.

Darla set down her phone, which she had been trying to get signal on, and leant back against her headboard. The visitor was probably just her ex-roommate coming to collect the stuff she had forgotten- Darla had demanded that the other girl move to give herself more privacy.

''Ugh, come in.''

The door creaked open and an uncharacteristically tentative Drake peered around it; this demeanour vanished quickly and he stalked over, perching on the edge of the bed.

''What was with your mood swing? You PMSing?''

''Oh, shut up, I was just annoyed. You let them walk all over you!'' Darla snapped, sitting up a little straighter.

''No, I don't.''

''Yes, you do! Caine's using you, and you don't ever just break away from him! Ladris is right, he does keep you on a lead!'' Darla insisted, crawling nearer down the bed.

''You don't know fucking anything, alright?'' Drake growled, grabbing her face with his left hand and squeezing it tight enough for her to wince, ''Not a thing!"

They stayed like that for a moment, him breathing heavily, before he suddenly leant down and rammed his lips against hers in a kiss. It wasn't romantic or gentle, there was no love, it was frustration and anger, it was rough, dry, and a bit painful, since he bit down hard on her bottom lip before she finally wrenched herself away.

''Get out. Get the fuck out. I don't want to see you ever again.''

To her amazement, he did, he got up silently and stormed from the room.

''...That idiot left my door open.''

* * *

**Thanks for everyone's ideas, guys, I'll try and add them in! This part is mainly based off of Dusk's contribution, with a little foreshadowing of another idea I received. Keep the reviews coming, it means the world to me! C;**


	8. Chapter 8

Drake had gone through with it.

Darla was sat on the windowsill of her room, peering out of the window tentatively. It was insane, it was inhumane, it was horrible, but Drake was carrying out an idea she had jokingly suggested.

The last kid's hand was being encased in concrete.

With a sigh, she tore her gaze away from the window as bile rose in her throat, and instead returned her attention to the car manual she was reading; Caine had mentioned something about visiting town, but it wasn't exactly walking distance, and so a few people were learning how to drive. Well, operate a car, anyway. If she was honest, this situation wasn't panning out in the way Darla had anticipated; sure, she knew that Caine was an egomaniac with delusions of grandeur, but taking over the school and immobilising anyone who opposed him in the slightest? That wasn't just simple teenage rebellion.

Shutting the manual, Darla rose to her feet, but stumbled and made a low groaning sound as her vision blurred and the room spun. All she could see was darkness, three faint outlines, silhouettes, two boys and a girl, and the another group with the same gender ratios. One boy in the newer group rose a hand, a glowing, green hand, and the boy in the other group rose a hand, and then Darla's eyes refocused on the ceiling of her room- she had collapsed.

"What the hell was that?"

* * *

"So, you can drive now?" Caine repeated, nibbling on his cuticle thoughtfully as he addressed both Darla and Drake at the same time.

"Yeah, it's easy, even Ladris could do it," Drake replied lazily, picking at a loose thread on his shirt.

"I know how to operate the car, but I'm not driving fast and risking my life for anything," Darla's response was much more to the point, without the snide remark she had been planning.

"Good enough. Right, so," Caine began to reel off his plan, and neither Darla nor Drake bothered to listen, simply because they had heard it around eighty times before.

"That was pretty boring, right?" Drak asked, trotting along to catch up with darla and draping an arm around her, which she promptly shrugged off.

"I saw what you did," She said quietly, rounding a corner and walking so quickly that it was clear she was trying to lose him.

"Saw me do what? I'm a busy guy, sugar."

"The concrete thing. How could you, Drake? Those are kids, just like you and me!" Darla stopped dead in her tracks, hands on her hips, and glared up at him.

"Aw, but babe, don't you remember? It was your idea," He nudged her in the ribs with his elbow a little harder, showing a flash of something else beneath his jaunty exterior.

"It was a joke, Drake, even you should have realised that."

"Yeah, but it was a pretty good idea, and I figured, hey, why not?" Drake moved in a bit, closing the gap between them and smirking down at her, "You know what'll happen, right? The skin with go pale, and if somebody does come to try and take it off, the block, I mean... Well, they'll be practically skinning them and breaking their bones, chip by chip."

"You're sick," Darla hissed, backing away and finding that she was trapped by the wall.

"That's what they all say. Really, it's disappointing, I almost expected something original," He traced her jaw with his thumb, scanning her face thoughtfully and stopping her when she tried to turn her head away. After a few moments, he drew his hand back and stepped to the side a little before turning around and walking off down the hallway without any other comment, aside from a simple:

"See you tomorrow in the car park, nine."

* * *

**Wow, guys, I'm amazed by the reviews, they mean loads to me!**

**I had a bit of a mental block, but chapters will hopefully be more frequent now.**

**Thanks to everyone who is submitting ideas, hope you can spot them! ;3**


	9. Chapter 9

Darla slammed the door to her bathroom and bolted it, resting her forehead against the cool wood for a few moments before straightening up and stripping off her uniform. The next day, she'd be going down to the town, the beach, with Caine and Diana and Drake and the others, and she wasn't sure if it was truly what she wanted. Sure, being around them gave her a purpose, but resigning herself to being Drake's bitch just seemed... Well, she'd made the mistake before.

Standing in front of the mirror hanging over the sink, Darla ran her fingertips over a bro purse beginning to blossom over her ribs where Drake had elbowed her, wincing when she applied a little pressure. Well, that'd ache in the morning, there was no doubt about it. Once she'd pulled the elastic from her ponytail to let her hair tumble looSe, she hopped into the shower and remained there until the water ran cold. The shock of the sudden burst of cold water shocked her back to reality (she'd been daydreaming) and left her with little choice but to fumble with the shower until it switched off and jump out again. However, part way through this process, Darla blacked out.

_It was a dimly lit place and the air was thin. Darla was there but not entirely, watching from a distance, the voices of those around her muffled. Two dark haired figures, one Caine, one... Diana? Yet her hair was so short. Diana said something, laughed a bit, and then went flying into a rock. It was another figure who had caused it, a sandy-haired boy, but his arm... It was... It was monstrous, not right! She never had the chance to get a better look because soon enough, he went flying too, propelled through the air by something long and metallic that slammed into his chest._

And then she woke up. It was clearer, this vision, much clearer than the faint shadows she had watched the previous time she had collapsed. Quickly, Darla sat up, and groaned as her head spun; she'd slammed into the corner of the sink and would likely be sporting a bruise on her temple the next morning. As she wrapped herself in her towel and left the bathroom, she couldn't stop thinking about the dream she had had (it had to be a dream, surely), and what had happened in it. No... Had she dreamt of Caine killing Drake?

Darla's car was in no place of importance. She had some kid from Coates in the passenger seat beside her messing about with a scalpel he'd taken from the art classroom, and he kept trying to grab her attention- it was really annoying and dangerous considering she'd only learnt to drive the previous day. Fortunately, Caine didn't seem intent on speeding to Perdido Beach, and so she was able to keep up a constant but relatively slow speed which would decrease further when they reached the town. Really, she had given up hope that there would be adults there: she only cared about looking after herself. If there were adults there, great, but if there weren't, at least she hadn't gotten her hopes up.

* * *

After what seemed like hours, they had arrived, and Caine was addressing a steadily growing crowd as if he had been born with the speech already in his mind- one thing that Darla did note about the crowd was that none of them seemed older than she was, not that she had expected much different. Someone was paying a lot more attention to the audience than Darla, and it was Diana. The dark haired girl was stood near Caine, regarding those watching with interest masked by a haughty exterior. Drake took Caine's other side, looking around with a much more sinister glare, though what else would he be doing? It was in his nature.

Fortunately for Darla, she hadn't been told to stand with Caine- she wasn't that important and besides, she hated standing in front of large audiences, even if she wasn't the one that they were focused on. Despite not being the centre of attention, however, she could constantly feel a pair of cold, stony eyes on her, a glare that was all too familiar, she could almost feel his eyes boring into her back... And yet she ignored her discomfort, carrying on as usual, even exchanging an eye roll with Diana of all people when Caine crouched to address a little boy personally.

Finally, the speech was over, and Darla found herself about to go explore the town when she felt a firm grip on her wrist.

"No, I don't trust you, you're coming in here so I can keep an eye on you," Drake snapped, yanking her toward the door of the church where a few people were still filing in.

"Drake, please, I don't want to, I need some air," Darla muttered, doing her best to shake his hand free, though his grip only tightened.

"You'll need air a lot more unless you get in there because if you don't move right now, I swear to God, I'll choke you. Hey, that's got to have some meaning, right? I'm swearing to God on the steps of a church," By now, his other hand had snaked up to her neck, fingers wrapped gently around it, though he was beginning to dig them in.

"You're hurting me, get off!"

"It's going to hurt more later if you're a little bitch again. Come on," Drake dropped his hand from her neck and dragged her into the church.

From a few feet away, Astrid Ellison frowned, shook her head, and began to head away; it wasn't any of her business anyway.

* * *

**Hello! Sorry for such a long break, especially as I said I'd be updating more frequently! It's nearly time for my winter holidays so hopefully I'll get a few more chapters up soon- really hope you guys are still reading because your reviews make my day!**

**\- Ladris**


	10. Chapter 10

**The events of the book might end up altering a little. That being said, though, I've lost my copy of the book and I'm looking for someone to help me out with the order of events and prominent lines, etcetera- pm me!**

Drake was busy, and she had _finally _slipped away.

The sky was just beginning to darken, and Darla was wandering the streets of Perdido Beach, beginning to wish she'd taken a coat from the closet of the house that she'd temporarily decided to stay in. It was the same day that they had arrived, and yet Darla felt as if they'd been there for ages; time was moving too slowly for her. Her neck hurt, and she knew for a fact that there were little bruises forming on it like a choker, reminders of where Drake's fingertips had been digging in, pushing, as if he wanted to rip her throat out. Perhaps he did.

"What are you wandering around for? Dangerous for little girls 'round here at night."

The voice was unfamiliar, so Darla stopped to look around, frowning, before opening her mouth to reply, hoping it'd draw the speaker out into view.

"I'm not a little girl, you see."

"You look pretty little to me," A second voice, deeper than the first, and the reason why was shown when two boys approached. One was quite tall, intimidating, while the other was a lot littler, but mean-looking. Both had a drink on the go, and by the looks of it, more for later.

"Give me a break and give me a drink," Darla replied simply, plucking the can from the smallest one's hand and taking a pretty long swig before handing it back and winking, "Cheers, needed that."

"Geez, I can see. Been in some sorta fight, alley cat?"

''You could say that. It was pretty one sided," Darla shrugged, narrowing her eyes a bit- she wasn't about to go into detail.

"Ha, beat 'em down, did you?"

"Uh, yeah, you could say that," Darla repeated, smiling a bit and trying to change the subject, "So, who am I talking to, then?"

"I'm Howard, and this is Orc," Howard introduced, wiping the can on his shirt.

"Ohh, the FAYZ kid, right?" Darla nodded, "Darla-Marie, but leave out the Marie bit."

"We got stuff to do, but we'll see you around, Darling," Howard winked before trotting off, tossing a now empty can onto the road.

And that was that. She watched them go, rubbing her neck and collarbone in an absent minded sort of way before she turned and began to walk back towards the building that Caine had picked out, one large enough for them all to stay in. Naturally, Drake had already gone off and found himself somewhere else, and she was meant to go there instead, but... No. She wasn't going to do that.

* * *

Darla woke with a start, sitting up sharply to find that her neck ached- she'd slept on it oddly and now it hurt like hell. She had spent the night sprawled across an (admittedly nice) leather couch, black just like her hair. With no clue what time it was,malt bough feeling she hadn't slept long, she pulled herself up and straightened out her crumpled uniform while at the same time making a mental note to go hunt for some new clothes when she got the chance. Perdido Beach didn't really have a mall or anything, but there were plenty of houses, she'd be able to find something.


	11. Chapter 11

**It just occurred to me that I should probably be leaving a warning: the relationship in this story is abusive.**

**Sorry for the lack of updates! I hope to continue this so if any of you are still around it'd be great to see more feedback.**

* * *

As as the light began to filter through a gap from where one of the slats from the blind was missing, Darla sat up and rubbed groggily at her eyes. Since she's fallen asleep with her makeup on, doing so smeared old mascara around her eyes a little, giving her that panda-eyed look. Upon arriving back in the building and finding Caine, Diana, and the few others that were staying there asleep, she'd crept into an empty room and fallen into a restless sleep, sprawled across a leather couch. Her substitute bed had taken its toll, for when she stood up her whole body ached and she felt even more tired than she had when she had led down the previous evening.

From the way that it seemed as though there was dew on the grass outside and the fact that she couldn't hear a sound throughout the house, Darla came to the conclusion that it was pretty early in the morning. That was pretty perfect, really, since it would give her time to get dressed and get out before anyone could stumble across her and rope her into helping Caine, or even worse hand her over to Drake, who might or might not have been asking for her location. She wandered over to the door and carefully trotted down the hallway into the nearest bathroom so that she could examine herself in the mirror.

All things considered, she decided that she still looked pretty good. Her dark circles from lack of sleep simply looked as though they were part of her smudged mascara which in turn could possibly seem as though it was intentional (a sort of slept-in grunge look) if she wiped a few stray streaks away. The visible bruises on her neck were beginning to fade and with a little concealer it'd be like they'd never been there to begin with. Darla combed her unruly ringlets with her fingers, fixed her eye makeup, added another coat of mascara, and dabbed some of her precious balm onto her somewhat chapped lips. Once she was satisfied she snuck back out of the bathroom and made a beeline for the staircase which she remembered led down to a door she could get out of the house with.

* * *

"Oh god, sorry, sorry!"

Dazed and confused, Darla looked up from where she was on her ass on the pavement, shielding her eyes from the sun with one hand. The anxious face staring down at her was pretty cute, cute enough to be forgiven- if those were dimples she could see then they'd be married before the day was through.

"Relax, kid, it's fine," She laughed, pulling herself to her feet and dusting herself down.

"I'm not the kid here. You're shorter than me," He pointed out with a grin, patting her head once with his hand and then pulling back as if he was testing his boundaries a bit.

"And I'll still cut you. You remember that," Darla shot back teasingly, shaking her head. At least in this town people seemed normal enough to chat with.

"Where are you headed in such a hurry, anyway?"

"Visiting a friend," Darla replied, choosing not to elaborate. In truth, she didn't know why she was going to go visit Drake, she just was. Perhaps it was boredom. Thrill seeking, maybe. "Not that it's your business."

"Ahh, okay," The boy shot her a joking wink, "Didn't realise I was late to the party."

"We aren't dating, if that's what you're implying," Darla snapped quickly, then repeated it a little gentler, deciding she liked the way it sounded, "We aren't dating."

"Whatever you say. Like you said: not my business." He flashed a crooked smile and wedged his hands into his pockets.

"Yeah," Darla nodded and smiled vaguely, but was already beginning to feel too awkward. It felt rude, but she uttered a hasty goodbye along with a lame excuse and continued on her way, letting herself into the house where she knew Drake was staying.

She he only just managed to close the front door before he slammed her into the wall.

"What the fuck was that?" Drake was right up in her face, she could feel the heat radiating from his body, their noses were practically touching. He was seething, she could see that, but the source of his anger was unclear at first.

"What the hell do you mean? Get off!" Darla protested, writhing around in an attempt to wriggle herself free.

"You dumb whore. I saw you out there, all over that random guy," Drake accused, only tightening his grip on her wrist, not backing away. His next question took Darla totally by surprise, and from the way his face contorted once the words left his mouth, it surprised him too. "Am I not good enough, is that it?"

"I..." Darla frowned, rubbing at her wrist defensively when he suddenly released her and took a step back, allowing her to move away from the wall. Was he getting soft on her? "What do you-?"

Unfortunately she was cut off when he lashed out and slapped her across the face with enough force to turn her head sideways. Clearly his confusion and tangle of emotions had backed him into a corner so he'd lashed out at her to stop things spiralling. After the slap he reached out and though she flinched away from him, he brushed his fingertips against her cheek as though the sight of the angry red mark was something amazing to behold.

His rage was gone as quickly as it'd appeared.

"About time you paid a visit. C'mon, I found this great gun, I know you're gonna love it," Drake explained, heading back the way he had come and only pausing when he heard no footsteps to indicate she was following. "Well? Come on!"

And despite everything, she did just that.


	12. Chapter 12

So Drake had shown Darla the gun. It was eerie, the way he had cradled it with a gentleness she had never seen in him before, how he'd pointed out every little component and feverishly explained each one in a hurried, excited tone, like a kid in show and tell with a souvenir from a holiday or something. After that they'd made out a bit. Nothing major, just to pass the time really- he'd bitten her lip a few times, grabbed at her in a way that was more uncomfortable/painful than sensual or intimate, and then they'd broken apart. After a while she'd suggested she leave, go for a walk and get some air. It had been her plan to get away for a while, but (seemingly remembering how she had spoken to a boy, Quinn, outside earlier on) Drake jumped up too and it only took a look at the cold glint in his eyes to make her shut her mouth. That was why they were wandering the town at night, him itching for some sort of excitement, her itching for a bit of freedom.

_"They aren't going to save you."_

The voice came from nearby, close but probably around the corner or something because Darla couldn't see anyone. It was a boy's voice, familiar-ish but nobody she recognised immediately. There were a few faint noises, sounded like a fight maybe, and then a barrage of threats and protests from countless other voices.

"Oh, boy. Looks like someone needs a Sherrif, right?" Drake remarked, flashing Darla his shark's grin and nudging her. As they rounded the corner a scene came into view, a fight, just like she had suspected. It appeared to be three-on-three with a group of spectators, although it became apparent that it was more three-on-one because two of the boys seemed to be hanging back a bit. Sam, she knew him because he had been in the church, he was the one who'd gone into that brining building, Schoolbus Sam. Quinn she knew because she'd seen him earlier- she looked away from him quickly because she could practically feel the way Drake shit her a quick glare. Then there was Edilio. She hadn't spoken to the first or last, but she knew _of_ them. Then there was Orc, 'Captain Orc' supposedly, a kid from Coates named Chaz, and some other guy she didn't know at all.

"Nobody move," Drake said, but Orc had just thrown Edilio off of himself and was know kicking him repeatedly on the ground, ignoring Drake's order. Mistake, definitely a mistake. Sure, Alec was strong, but Drake was a lot quicker and his attacks were much more calculated than his opponent's; when he smashed his elbow into Orc's nose the crunching sound made Darla feel queasy. She didn't have the stomach for blood, not really. A few quick jabs with the bat Drake had borrowed from the kid from Coates and Orc was temporarily defeated. When Sam explained the reason for the fight, Darla silently hoped that Drake would agree with the justification, that he'd see that Orc had hit some girl and that it wasn't right, but she wasn't exactly going around with a guy who believed in chivalry or being a gentleman. He didn't seem to care at all. In fact, if anything, he backed Orc and the other two up a bit.

When he stalked off, Darla didn't bother following. Drake didn't seem to notice. She hung around for a little while, long enough to watch Sam and his friends carry the injured girl inside. As she turned to go she wondered, not for the first time, if she was backing the wrong side.

* * *

"That girl died," Darla stated sullenly as she spooned sugar into a cup of tea, her back to Drake, who was sprawled across a chair in the kitchen, watching her.

"And? Not my problem," He pointed out, narrowing his eyes slightly.

"I just thought that maybe you weren't all bad. Apparently," Darla paused to set the teaspoon down and turn to face him, "I was wrong. I was hoping you weren't _completely_ psycho, that's all."

"Aw, shame. Sorry to disappoint you babe," Drake began, and then deciding that he kind of liked the way the pet name sounded (although he didn't mean if sweetly or affectionately) he used it again, "...babe, but I'm not going to cuddle up to you after a couple of... Like, you know."

"We made out. Didn't realise that sort of thing was embarrassing to you. Aw, poor Drake, blushing 'cause he kissed a girl," Darla smirked and raised the mug to her lips to take a sip, but stopped for a moment before she actually drank, "Wait until I tell Diana."

It was clear that her teasing had gone too far.

She realised a little too late.

This time, he didn't fly at her. No, he didn't even lash out, yet somehow this was a little more frightening. Drake gave her his shark's grin and took a step nearer.

Darla set down her mug.

"Now listen to me, babe. You're cute. You don't piss me off as much as some people do, especially when you keep your mouth shut. You're a decent kisser," Drake was right by her now. She could feel his breath on her face. Half a step more and they'd be chest to chest. "But that's all you are to me. Got it? You aren't the Diana to my Caine. I'm not going to pine after you, I'm not that weak. For now I like having you around." He tapped her cheek and pulled back, "Let's keep it that way."

And with that, he turned away from her as if nothing had happened and trotted out, whistling, making sure to grab his gun on the way out.

Drake hadn't hit her but Darla felt like he'd knocked her round the head with the butt of his gun. Slowly, she sank into the chair he'd occupied only minutes ago and frowned at the table as though it held some great secret and that staring at it would reveal everything. Why did she feel almost disappointed? She hadn't set out to change him. She had thought he was cute enough during her first few weeks at Coates. She had heard the stories and brushed them off. Maybe she really was playing with fire.


	13. Chapter 13

**This chapter starts after a time skip from the previous one. **

He was gone. Gone, gone, gone. After the freaks had escaped from Coates when Pete had pulled his little stunt and unknowingly made all of the concrete disappear, Sam had burnt Drake's arm. Darla had seen him while he was splayed across the table, writhing, crying out, cursing; she had left just before Diana produced the saw. No need for her to watch, she could hear the noise just fine. It was sickening. Once he'd lost the arm he had snapped, Darla had seen that- he had come to visit her only once, they had kissed for maybe twenty seconds, and then her had pulled away. The pain, he kept telling her about the pain. That and how dead Sam Temple was going to be when they met again. But Drake was gone: rumour had it that he'd gone to the town, kidnapped the girl who they all called the Healer, and driven off into the desert with her. Darla wasn't sure how she felt about him being gone. It was both a relief and a shame, though it was strange to miss somebody like that. It was the company she missed, not the boy, that's what she insisted. For a brief, crazy moment one night she had considered going to seek out somebody new, maybe from Coates, maybe not- she had met people in town who she could... No.

Darla had had an 'episode', that was what she had begun to call the moments when she blacked out and her mind was filled with odd, vague images. The latest had been truly abnormal, more shadows and silhouettes of people, and yet this time there was something freakishly wrong. One of the figures, it's arm was... Well, she had assumed it'd been an arm, though it was hard to tell as the people were only shapes, no features or detail, and the arm had been too wrong to ever be an arm. It had been like somebody had attached a snake to themselves. Perhaps she was going crazy in her own company, maybe she really did need new friends. The thought almost made her laugh, that she was stuck in the FAYZ and her biggest concern was whether she needed to be more sociable.

So things had been going as well as she could expect given the circumstances for the past couple of days. Darla happened to be, by some coincidence, in her old room at Coates searching to see if she could find any clean clothes, some underwear would be nice, that sort of thing. The curtains were gone, she had noticed that as soon as she had entered, and somebody had obviously been in the room because both sets of bedsheets were soiled, one of the mattresses stripped bare. She paused to run her fingers along the headboard of the bed that wasn't hers- it had belonged to a girl called Katie, who had been fifteen when everyone disappeared. It was lucky, Darla thought, because Katie would have fainted to see their room in the state it was in: she had always been a neat freak. Darla walked over to the dresser to pull out an old tshirt, a skirt, anything she might have left behind, and that was when the commotion outside caug her eye. A mass of yellowish shapes, a pack, they were dogs? No, not dogs, too big, they were coyotes. She practically flew to the window and unmatched it so she could lean out as far as possible, craning her neck to see.

And then she saw him.

It was Drake, it really was, and for one crazy moment Darla was relieved, happy and relieved because he was back, she wouldn't be alone anymore, he was alive and safe and-.

"No. No, no, no." She whispered, green eyes widening as she placed a palm against the windowpane to steady herself. Drake was there, but he was wrong, all wrong. The last time she had seen him his arm had been blackened and burnt, and about to be amputated, and now? It was monstrous. It was... It was the shape she had seen during her latest episode! But that couldn't be, could it? How could she have dreamt of something like that unless her dreams weren't dreams at all, but visions? No, that couldn't be right, this was the first one that she had seen come to life. It had to be a coincidence. Darla wanted to look away but as the horrible, snake-like appendage uncoiled from Drake's waist and snapped as quick as a flash at Diana, she couldn't tear her eyes away.

Darla's bedsheets were soiled so she was sat on the floor, wrapped in a jumper much to large for her frame, huddling up as if she was cold even though it was nowhere near chilly outside. For how long she had been there she couldn't say, but it felt like a decade.

"There you are!"

He was in the doorway now, she knew it was him without even looking up. Darla didn't want to look up, couldn't, because it would confirm what she already knew, that the arm was real and she hadn't imagined it. It sickened her to think that she had been silently praying for his return- it was a cruel joke, to return him to her even more broken, twisted, and dangerous than before.

"Here I am," Darla said at last, looking up and curling her lips into the usual wry smile she gave him. As if to greet him, she pulled herself to her feet, but rather than run to hug him or shake his hand, she simply stretched luxuriously.

They stood in silence for almost a full minute before he took a step nearer, uncoiling his whip agonisingly slowly from his waist. He reached out with it and as it drew closer Darla kept her eyes fixed on it; she had seen how fast it could move, she didn't want to take chances. In fact, she was so horrified that when she felt it make contact with her cheek, she flinched visibly, eliciting a chuckle from Drake. It took her a moment to realise that he hadn't hit her, only brushed the tip of the whip across her cheek to taunt her, to tease her, to terrify her.

"Like it?"

"It's... It's... I mean...," Darla mumbled, reaching up to bat away the whip. Rather than having the desired effect, though, her action only prompted Drake to coil the arm suddenly around her wrist. It was a peculiar feeling, like a snake, only not so tight. Not yet, anyway.

"It's brilliant," Drake finished for her, giving her wrist a tug. She came to him finally, glancing over his shoulder to make sure that they were alone before looking up at him curiously, then smirking. The confused look on his face when she did that amused her, it was like she expected her to be quivering in fear, and yet she was privately mocking him.

"Yes, brilliant. Why'd you come to see me, hm? I thought you didn't need me?" Darla pointed out, cocking her head to the side. Naturally he had gone off with Caine upon his arrival, sure, but she hadn't expected a visit from Drake at all, let alone so soon. Besides, she had been expecting violence rather than dialogue.

"Thought you might piss yourself when you saw me. Thought I was gone?" Drake moved the whip from her wrist to her waist and squeezed just once, relishing that little flicker in her eyes when he took her by surprise. See, bitch, you can't act all tough all the time.

"Sorry to disappoint. And yeah, I did think you were gone," Darla replied, standing on the tips of her toes and leaning in as though she was about to kiss him before stopping just before their lips touched and instead whispering, "Had a lot of fun thinking you were gone, actually. Have you ever noticed how hot Sam Temple is? I sure have." It was a shot in the dark to make him angry. She hadn't spoken to Sam properly, if at all, she had just heard him mentioned.

Darla could tell that the suggestive little comment pissed Drake of because she felt the whip tighten a little more, causing the feeling to become uncomfortable rather than just alien. Still, she held his gaze and waited for the slap to come, but instead received a kiss that was rough and needy and angry and everything that Drake's kisses always were. There wasn't any romance in this one, there rarely ever was, just a lot of desperation and need that she couldn't seem to ease. When eventually he had slammed her into the wall enough and bitten her lip a couple of times for good measure, Drake pulled back.

"You listen to me, okay? There's gonna be a fight, a big one," Drake's eyes were shining now, a cold and frightening excitement as though the very thought of violence made him want to cry out in joy. "And Sam is as good as dead as far as I'm concerned. So here's the thing, babe; when we go to the town, you can die for all I care. Just wait until you've seen me kill Sam, because I will, and I want you to see that I kept my word."

With that, he let her go, patted her curly hair, and sauntered out of the room whistling merrily just as he had done many times before.


	14. Chapter 14

Drake had claimed that he didn't care if Darla died in the upcoming battle with the Perdido Beach kids, and yet the next day at the crack of dawn he found himself taking the girl to a semi-secluded spot in the grounds where they weren't likely to be disturbed. He hadn't taken her there to argue or to kiss or anything like that, no, because he had brought guns. It felt much more serious.

Darla, despite her initial reaction of jumping to the conclusion that Drake simply planned to shoot her, had followed him outside and had taken the gun he had handed to her. For one split second, she realised that she could turn and shoot him, take him by surprise and finish off a boy who would one day finish so many- perhaps in the future she would look back and wish with all her heart that she'd put a bullet between his gleaming grey eyes then and there, but she couldn't see what was to come, couldn't know, and so she didn't. Besides, as it turned out, Drake hadn't planned to hurt Darla at all; no, he wanted to _teach _her.

"So that gun you've got there, it's a Glock, I found it in some chick's bedside table," Drake explained casually, patting the barrel of the little gun he had handed Darla. It couldn't have been much more than six or seven inches long, a compact weapon which she could only imagine was suited to be stashed in a handbag or something 'just in case'. It wasn't has heavy as she had feared it would be and she found herself handling it with caution but also surprising ease.

"You load it like this," Drake continued, reaching over to take the gun from her hands and demonstrating. It was slightly more difficult with his new arm, as he hadn't yet quite gotten the hang of it, but he still loaded and unloaded the gun much quicker than he probably should have been able to. After all, even though they seemed and acted older, both of them were only teenagers. "Now you try," He added, holding the gun out for her to take.

Darla gingerly took the gun and began to imitate his actions with slightly shaking hands. The first time she dropped the magazine and Drake made a strange noise which was partially a laugh, and partially an irritated grunt. After a couple of tries Darla was loading and unloading the gun fairly swiftly, though privately she feared that in the heat of the moment she'd forget everything she had practised or fumble and shake again and end up spilling bullets all over the floor.

"Good, that's good, babe. Now watch and learn." Drake instructed, curling his finger almost lovingly around the trigger of his own larger gun, turning towards a target which he had pinned crudely to a tree, and raising it to fire.

* * *

"I still don't get why you've gotta take the dogs. I hate coyotes," Darla insisted, wrinkling her nose. When she had finally hit the target enough times to satisfy Drake, the two had parted ways for a while but had eventually met again back in his old bedroom. She noted that he didn't seem to have a roommate, or at least everything of the other kid's had been cleared out. That last thought made her wonder if perhaps he had shared with Caine, because Caine seemed like the type of person who would get rid of all of his belongings to prevent somebody looking through them. Maybe she was just overthinking it.

The two of them, Drake and Darla, were on his bed. Drake was sitting in a slumped sort of way and leaning against the headboard while Darla was lying down properly, head in his lap, and he was messing around with her curly hair. They'd been sat like that for a while, just talking- it wasn't their usual style but there was something about Drake's presence that was ironically comforting. Her lips curled into a smirk- at least it couldn't get any worse, right? Surely there was nobody more twisted than Drake, and she was surviving him just fine. Besides, she thought, who the hell would mess with her if they knew the odd relationship she had with Drake?

"It's strategy, babe. That's Soren's favourite word: strategy this, strategy that. Sam'll give up if he thinks the kids are in danger," Drake shrugged, glancing down at her and frowning a bit at her smirk, although deciding not to comment on it. He matched her smirk with one of his own, giving a short and dark chuckle. "Feeling guilty again? Don't worry, babe, you didn't inspire this particular idea."

Darla narrowed her eyes up at the ceiling as a familiar pang of guilt hit her like a punch to the stomach. He was, of course, referring to the way that the uncooperative freaks had suffered the torment of having their hands encased in concrete, something that Darla herself had accidentally suggested. Sarcasm, that's what it had been, and yet Drake's twisted mind had made it into a reality.

"Funny." Came her blunt reply. Still, at least there was the consolation that the kids had gotten away. When Drake had shown up and paraded through with Sam and his friends, everything seemed to be going smoothly, but before they knew it the little freak kid had vanished the blocks, and one thing had led to another, and then she had been listening to Drake scream in agony. The strangled cries had awoken something deep inside her, something that she wasn't even sure she would ever feel: she had been worried for him, upset that there was nothing she could do to help. He was even more frightening than before with his new appendage, but at least he seemed satisfied.

For now.

"Yes, I am pretty funny, aren't I? Wittier than Soren," Drake mused, half joking, and half wanting her to jump in and shower him with praise. He didn't pine for Darla's affections the way that Caine did with Diana, but lately he had started to notice than when she flashed him one of her secret smiles (the ones that were partially smirks and reserved just for him), or ruffled his hair the way that would get anyone else's wrist snapped, he had felt almost pleased.

"Wittier than Caine," Darla confirmed, then her lips curled into a devilish smirk as she looked up at him. Before she spoke again she sat up, and leant in a little so that it almost seemed as though she was going to kiss him, then whispered something. "But not wittier than Diana. And certainly not wittier than me."

"You're lucky that I'm busy thinking about the Beach kids," Drake admitted, regarding her with slightly narrowed eyes. It was his eyes that often frightened Darla, because when she gazed into them she couldn't see anything but that familiar steely glint. His gaze never softened, never betrayed many of his emotions. Perhaps that was why seeing him cry had shocked her so much. Slowly, his new arm inched towards her and no matter how hard she tried she couldn't tear her gaze away from it. It was horrifying, otherworldly, and yet fascinating in a scary sort of way- she had examined it, when he had allowed her to, but no matter how hard she thought about it she just couldn't justify it.

When it came into contact with her arm and began to snake up it, she tensed up, she couldn't help it. Would she ever get used to it, she wondered? There was no time to relax her tensed muscles because Drake slid the whip around her throat, moving painfully slowly, seeming to relish in the way that her eyes followed his every move, poised, fearful. No matter how tough she pretended to be he knew that he still intimidated her, and he wanted to keep it that way.

"Just remember who's in charge here, yeah? It's not you, baby, and it's not Ladris or Soren or even fucking Sam Temple. It's me." He had leant in too, mirroring what she had done. A smirk passed his lips and he pressed a quick kiss to her forehead before releasing her and patting her curly hair. "Better rest up, doll. We're gonna be busy soon."

* * *

**Okay guys, I'm back! Popped by and read a few reviews, and decided to continue. I can't believe that people read this, and your reviews make my day and inspire me to keep going with the story!**

**We're coming up to the battle soon which begs the question: which side is Darla going to end up with in the end? If you have ideas out them in the reviews!**

**To the guest who submitted the idea about Caine, Drake &amp; Darla recently- I love your evil genius. ;)**


	15. Chapter 15

It was almost unreal. Screams and shouts echoed throughout the plaza, echoing down every dark alley. The plaza was already a mess, a mass of dirty yellow shapes intertwined with the kids, the kids who were her own age and even younger. Gunshots, little pinpricks of lights from the muzzles.

And the blood. There was so much blood. Blood on the snouts of coyotes, blood on the ground, blood on the corpses, blood everywhere. Blood on Darla.

She took a shaky breath as she leant against the wall of the narrow alley she had ducked down into. The gun Drake had given her was stuck in a belt that she'd wrapped securely around her waist; she had the power to protect herself, or at least a chance to, and yet the weapon lay almost forgotten. Darla squeezed her eyes shut, willing for everything to be over by the time they fluttered open again, and found that her wish was not granted. After the little stunt in the daycare Drake had fled, and he hadn't taken her with him. She had guessed he was humiliated, gone off to lick his wounds and brood about how Quinn had actually raised a gun to shoot him, how he had failed in his task, how the coyotes had run off, and most of all how Diana would laugh when she found out. The thought brought the ghost of a smile to Darla's lips.

Perhaps she couldn't hide forever, not while there was a battle raging right within her sight. Reluctantly she pulled herself away from the wall and reached up to tighten the high ponytail that her curly hair was bundled up into. With a newfound courage and a terrible knot in the pit of her stomach, Darla slipped out of the safety of the alleyway and into the fray. It only took thirty seconds for her to realise that she had made a terrible, terrible decision because no sooner had she fully entered the plaza, she was barrelled over and thrown to the concrete.

The coyote stank. It smelled like meat that'd been left in the sun for too long that'd then spoiled. It smelled of decay, of death. There were dark stains on its muzzle, fresh ones, and she realised with a sickening twist in her stomach that this animal had probably already torn up a kid tonight. Frantically she twisted beneath the coyote yet somehow it was too big, no matter how hard she tried she couldn't writhe around enough to throw it off. She could feel hot breath on her face as her fingers tangled into the beast's matted fur, desperately trying to wrench the canine off of herself. When it sank its teeth into the smooth flesh of her forearm she cried out and the sound mixed with the other similar ones that filled the plaza.

Maybe it was adrenaline, but when Darla registered that the coyote had bitten her she found the strength to laugh one kick solidly into the animal's abdomen. For a brief moment she was blissfully free, staring up at the night sky rather than into the face of an animals that could very well kill her, but that was too easy. Just as she made a move to stand she was knocked down again by the same coyote, only it was snarling more and more, clearly agitated by her feeble attempt to fight it off. The snapping muzzle grew nearer and nearer, and she tossed her headband to the side.

That was when she met his gaze. Another blissful moment of expecting to be freed, to be saved. It really did look like Drake was going to help her for a split second: if what he had bragged to her about was true, the coyotes feared and respected him, he only had to say the word and she'd be safe once more. Her heart sank as she watched his lips curl into a snarl, he seemed disgusted that she looked so pitiful there on the floor. She didn't even cry out for him, just watched as he turned to return his attention to Howard and a large, human-ish looking creature that couldn't possibly be real, couldn't be anyone because it looked like wet gravel, like a huge lump of wet gra-

Torn from her thoughts by another nip of the coyotes jaws, Darla continued to writhe helplessly.

Suddenly she wasn't looking up at the clear night sky again.

Having learnt not to hesitate she immediately shot up and came face to face with her saviour. Breathing heavily and holding the gun that he had used to knock the coyote off of Darla was Quinn Gaither, Sam's friend, somebody she had met before. He had betrayed Sam before, she knew that, but she almost felt bad for him- she knew how it felt to have made a terrible mistake, whenever she saw kids like Brianna she was reminded of her own. The Healer had taken care of the physical complications of the plastering but the memories of that sort of thing would never fade.

"You just saved my life," She breathed, as if she couldn't quite believe it- by the way Quinn was looking at her and then at the butt of his gun, it seemed that he couldn't quite believe it either.

"Maybe you can return the favour sometime," Quinn managed a smile, shaky but still existent. He wasn't quite sure who Darla was, what sort of person she was- nobody seemed to have a concrete set of facts about her. The Coates kids all seemed to have mixed opinions, she kept herself to herself apparently, or rather, Drake kept her to himself. Obviously somebody who hung around Drake so much had to be fifty shades of messed up, but she didn't seem so bad. Not bad enough to let die, anyway.

"You got it," Darla mirrored his nervous smile, and finally her hand found its way to the gun strapped to her waist. In one fluid motion she pulled it out and shot just below Quinn's arm, causing the coyote who had been advancing to yelp and drop to the floor.

"Guess we're even," Quinn mused.

"Guess we are."

By this point it seemed as time had slowed for them, not in the way that it was slowing for Sam and Caine, but in a strange sort of way. It wasn't quite romantic, or at least it didn't feel like that, yet there was still some sort of connection which was peculiar as they barley knew one another.

All at once time sped up again. By some miracle, Sam and Caine were back, back from the brink, and that could only mean one thing.

You could survive turning fifteen.

She stood and watched, watched as Sam allowed Caine to leave. For a moment she had expected him to kill him, just get rid of the problem: surely, after everything that had happened, the bodies littering the plaza, surely Caine deserved it? Yet there he was, descending the steps. As Darla's eyes flicked to his side, she realised with a sickening jolt that Diana was with him, beside him, and they were walking hand in hand. Did that mean that she would be expected to go with Drake, too?

He was still busy trying to win the fight with the rock monster, a battle he could surely never win. His movements were slow, lethargic, his face was glistening with sweat. His clothes were dirty, but then again, so were everyone else's. As Caine walked by and dragged Drake away from the slowing battle, his cold grey eyes locked with Darla's bright ones. They held their gazes, almost tenderly as they looked at one another. She took a step forward as if to follow, as though she was going to call out to him, or run to him.

But his mouth curled into a grin, too many teeth and not enough affection. She could have sworn that she actually heard a dark chuckle slip from his throat, as though he knew that she wouldn't leave him, as though he was waiting for her to chase after him like a puppy. That was when her soft gaze hardened, and to his amazement, she turned her head to look away, turned her whole body from him. Darla, as she turned, held out the gun that Drake had given her and let it clatter to the pavement. It felt a strange though a weight had been lifted from her when she let the weapon go, and with her back to Drake, she felt at peace for the first time in a while. She walked not too far from Quinn, not beside him, but still close enough that she was almost walking with him. She smiled. Perhaps she could rebuild herself in the Beach.

Maybe somebody really could turn over a new leaf.

* * *

**So there's GONE finished! If anyone is still reading this, let me know and I'll continue on with HUNGER.**

**Should Darla end up back with Drake by the time HUNGER starts? Who should she befriend or be with? How will the gaiaphage affect the two of them? I really love feedback so don't hesitate to leave a review or even shoot me a PM!**


	16. Chapter 16

**Hello! I just received two lovely reviews and as promised, here is the chapter. Honestly I'm so grateful to you guys for reading and reviewing, knowing that people enjoy my story make sure my day. Hope you enjoy, and as always, feedback &amp; ideas are greatly appreciated!**

* * *

Darla stood in the kitchen, stirring her cup of black tea. There wasn't really any need to stir it, there wasn't any sugar to dissolve or milk to mix in, but she supposed it was force of habit. She'd been drinking a lot of tea, green tea, breakfast tea, herbal tea, because it was better than letting her hands creep over to alcohol. No, no alcohol, she had learnt her lesson; a few days after Thanksgiving she'd made her way through a big bottle of cheap gin and Quinn had had to hold her hair back while she was violently sick.

Ah, Quinn. She wasn't sure how she felt about that. The two of them were sharing the house for the time being, they'd decided to do so after the big battle in the plaza; as she had been living up at Coates she had had nowhere to go after deciding not to return with the others, and so had been grateful when Quinn suggested crashing in a house near to the fire station. It was originally just a night or two but she hadn't moved, there wasn't anywhere else to go. Quinn was... nice. So why couldn't she like him properly, wholeheartedly? Had they kissed? Yes. More than once. But when they did it felt as the though he was thinking of somebody else rather than her, and she was just the same because when she shut her eyes she wasn't picturing Quinn at all, and that made her feel guilty. It was difficult to picture somebody else when she was kissing Quinn because his kisses were so soft, gentle, slow, and one thing was for sure- so far he hadn't bitten her lip so hard that it had bled.

With a faint smile, she lifted the cup to her lips and wondered for a moment who it was that Quinn was picturing when they kissed. Astrid, perhaps? Mary?

Sam?

The thought made her almost laugh and she set the cup down again a little harder than she needed to. Hot liquid sloshed over the side and landed on her hand, eliciting a soft little hiss from Darla. That did make her laugh, not because it hurt, but because she thought of how Drake would give her that disgusted look if he saw her react like that to a bit of hot water. Naturally her laugh didn't last long, it was gone as quickly as it'd appeared: whenever she thought of Drake, she thought of him as she had last seen him. His eyes had been wild, lips drawn back in an animalistic snarl, hair matted, clothes torn and bloody, and his monstrous whip had been raised. He had looked at her as if she was nothing. He had done nothing to help her. Was he back up at Coates? Was he thinking of her, wondering if she was alright?

Did he even care?

* * *

Drake was in the shrink's office. Well, it had been the shrink's office one, and now it was his; he had brought all of his guns in there, hidden the ammunition. He sat sprawled across a couch that he'd had a couple of kids drag in, watching a gory horror movie with the volume turned all the way up. When he watched films like the one his eyes were glued to, his thoughts sometimes wandered to Darla. She loved horror films, they'd argued and debated about them for hours. If she were there she would be right with him, lying across the couch, head in his lap. Stupid head in his lap. Stupid, pretty head in his lap.

Because she was pretty, and that was why he missed her, right? Darla made out with him, she didn't annoy him as much as other people did, and also, she thought he was better than Caine. Of course, he thought with a smirk, Caine wasn't really an issue at present. Bedridden and crazy, from what he had heard. Maybe he was stronger than Caine after all- hey, he'd been to the mineshaft too, and was he trapped in some kind of fever dream? No.

He had considered going down to the beach while Caine wasn't around to get in the way. Not for a fight, amazingly, but to go and retrieve Darla. On a matter of principle, obviously; she was his, it wasn't a crime to take back what was yours. If she thought she could slip away from him that easily, she had another thing coming, that was for sure. He wasn't gonna let her make a fool out of him by walking off and leaving him. It wasn't as if she could take care of herself. Bitch was lucky he still wanted her around.

* * *

"Fine, fine, I'll find somebody to keep an eye on the witch," Drake rolled his eyes, coiling and uncoiling his whip arm. He noted, to his amusement, that for once Caine didn't berate him for not just using Diana's name. Not even a glare.

"There's just one more thing," Caine added, almost as an afterthought. He didn't stand up but somehow he still held the power in the room, had the higher status, and Drake hated it. He watched Caine, grey eyes searching the boy's pale face.

"Spit it out, haven't got all day," Drake pressed, still testing his boundaries, wondering how much disrespect he could get away with given Caine's current state.

"Darla. She didn't come back with us. She's not here." Caine began, sounding casual while at the same time searching Drake's face for any hint that might betray what the blonde boy was really thinking. He thought he perhaps saw a twitch, maybe a glint in his eyes, not anything major.

"No, she's not. Why, thinking of trading in Diana? Wouldn't blame you," Drake was shifty suddenly, and it didn't escape Caine. By some miracle he let the comment slide, because he was deliberately pushing Drake's buttons, trying to get some sort of reaction. Before the battle, before the mineshaft, he hadn't noticed Drake's relationship with Darla but while they'd been blindly walking through the desert he had realised that Drake was bringing her up more and more. Part of the beauty of Drake was that he didn't get mixed up in ordinary emotions, he could do the things Caine wanted him to do without thinking twice, without feeling bad. If Darla could potentially compromise that, then there was an issue.

"Not at all," Caine flashed a smile, a ghost of his usual bravado, "I just wanted to make sure that you're not... hung up on her. Love makes you weak, you know, Drake-man."

His whip coiled around his waist tighter than he had anticipated. Drake furrowed his brow, then gently uncoiled the whip again, trying not to seem as angry as he felt. He flashed Caine a smile of his own, cold and menacing.

"Love? I don't love her, if that's what you're getting at. She was just a girl. Good in bed and not too annoying." Drake shrugged nonchalantly, making up a response that he hoped would satisfy Caine. Was he even lying? Darla _was _just a girl, after all, not that he knew how she was in bed because they'd never even gotten to that point. All the more reason to get her back, he supposed- if he managed to sleep with Darla before Caine sweet talked Diana, it'd just be another little victory against Soren.

"Good, that's what I was hoping you'd say. That's it really, just don't forget to find someone to tail Diana," Caine stood up shakily and stretched his arms above his head, waiting for Drake to turn to leave before he added, "The stuff about Darla better be true. Get with whoever you want by all means, but don't get attached. If the girl ever becomes a problem, someone will have to get rid of her. Don't make it me."


	17. Chapter 17

Darla had had this dream before. She was beginning to suspect that at least one or two of her dreams really were prophetic, at least to some extent- after all, she had seen a figure with a strange, alien arm when she had blacked out, and then not too long after Drake had turned up with his monstrous tentacle arm. Then again, while that had come true, she still hadn't seen anyone throw Drake down into the dark. Yes, she'd had this dream before, and that's why she wasn't nervous about waking up and seeing a figure in her doorway. Part of her suspected that this time it wasn't a dream, but she wasn't fully conginced that she was awake until she actually felt the tentacle creeping up her leg. When she'd been much younger she had always slept with the blankets pulled over her because she thought they protected her from any monsters who mix try to prey upon her whilst she was asleep. How ironic that now she was sleeping uncovered, a monster really was coming for her.

"Up."

"Up?" Darla echoed, a hint of amusement in her voice. The tentacle curled around her knee, squeezing but not painfully so. "I was hoping for better words for our reunion, but I suppose that will have to do."

"Don't call it a reunion, that makes it sound happy," Drake frowned a little, watching cautiously as she slipped out of bed. His frown faded into a smirk, "Nice ass. Better put some actual clothes on though, you'll be cold out there."

"Find me something, then. You're closer to the cabinet." Darla leant against the wall, keeping her gaze fixed on him. It was strange to see him again, she hasn't expected it to be so soon. Why wasn't she more afraid? Surely it would be rational for her to be shaking at this point. Strange. When he tossed a bundle of grey fabric to her she pulled the garment on and smiled a bit to herself- yoga pants, her favourite. "Thanks."

"Soren's awake," He stated as they headed for the car, where another kid was dozing at the wheel. It didn't occur to him that she would have no clue what he was talking about, as she hasn't been around to know about Caine being bedridden and unhinged.

"The answer to a question that I never asked." She pointed out, flashing him her usual mischievous grin, the one that showed off her pearly little teeth. As they neared the car she almost jokingly called shotgun just to see what he'd say, but at the last minute changed her mind and slid into the backseat. The sound of the door opening jolted the driver awake and he quickly gripped the wheel again, eyeing Drake nervously.

"Thought I told you to keep the engine running? You're lucky she was so easy to get," Drake drawled, slamming the passenger door shut and leaning back in his seat as the car began to pull away. The kid wasn't a bad driver, but he appeared to be a nervous one although Darla didn't blame him- even she would be nervous if Drake was in the seat beside her.

"I'm right here, you know. You could at least use my name."

"I was just saying that you're easy. You already know that," Drake glanced at her in the rearview mirror, mouth curled into an unpleasant smile. For a moment her cheeks burned red, but then she mirrored his smile and winked at him in the reflection.

"Can't be all that easy, you still haven't gotten very far."

The kid driving was trying to keep an eye on the road while at the same time darting back and forth between Darla and Drake. He almost seemed ready to pull over at any minute, probably fearing Drake would have a mood swing and climb into the back to have a proper fight with the girl.

After a reasonably short drive they were pulling up to Coates. As they neared the main building Darla noted just how battered the once magestic school looked, missing windows and doors, the bricks pockmarked with what could only be bullet holes. She slipped out of the car, feeling the odd sensation of cold gravel beneath her sock-clad feet as she began to walk towards the building, quickening her pace to catch up with Drake. Once she was near enough, she reached out and grabbed his ordinary arm, prompting him to stop and whip around. For a split second she thought he might hit her but then his body language relaxed and she released a breath that she didn't realise she was holding.

"Drake, we have to talk," She began, searching his face for any hint that he might be willing to listen. It was risky to bring up what she was about to, chances were he wouldn't even believe her, but then again anything with Drake was risky. No, she had to try.

"Oh, don't start getting all weird with me." Drake pulled his arm away, eyeing her suspiciously. She realised, to her amusement, that he thought she was going to try and talk to him about their 'relationship', whatever it was.

"I'm not gonna try and get all romantic, you know I don't like that stuff," Darla wrinkled her freckled nose to mime distaste, then sobered up her expression. Carefully she took a step forward, nervous that somebody might overhear even though their surroundings appeared to be empty. "Look, I had... well, I think I had a vision, a while back."

"A vision?" The disbelief was clear in his voice, in his smirk. He seemed just about to comment on how insane that sounded, before he glanced at his other arm.

"Yeah. I didn't think it could be anything real at first but... okay, this sounds crazy, but I saw you in one of these like, visions. With your new arm. Before Sam even burnt you." Darla paused, still looking intently up at him. He actually seemed to be listening, almost curious, so she continued after a deep breath. "And the reason I'm telling you is because the first one I had, the first time I blacked out, I saw you. I saw something happen to you. You were like, flying. Someone basically threw you through the air, and you disappeared. I think you died in this dream, vision thing. Drake, I think you know who must have done that to you in my vision."

Drake was silent, gazing down at her with his grey eyes as stony and unreadable as ever. They stayed in silence for moments that felt like years before finally, his face cracked into a grin.

"Aw, babe, you really are crazy sometimes." He chuckled, wrapping an arm around her and beginning to lead her up the steps. If he was taking any notice of what had basically been a warning it didn't show, and Darla decided that he had probably chosen not to believe her. Oh, well, she could look out for him herself, right? But for now she just wanted some sleep.

* * *

"What do you think she said to him?"

"Um, maybe 'don't be a psycho to me again'?" Diana drummed her fingertips against the windowsill, still vacantly watching the space where Drake and Darla had been only moments ago. It wasn't her best retort by far but she was tired and fed up, so she deserved to be cut some slack.

"I don't trust her," Caine bit savagely at his thumb, watching the empty space much more worriedly. The irony that those were the exact words Drake had said about Diana didn't occur to him. "I don't want her to affect him."

"I think it'll be fine. They aren't going to stay peaceful for long, and then she'll go back to town and everything will work out for you," Diana was already on her way out, but just before she disappeared out of sight she paused in the doorway, "She'll go back, or eventually he'll kill her."

"Yeah." Caine murmured to the now empty room, "That's what I'm counting on."

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**Hey guys! I'm hoping to get updates up much more frequently (already started the next chapter). **

**Little shoutout here to Meep- two reviews in a row? I feel spoiled, heheh. Thankyou! 3**


	18. Chapter 18

Darla looked so peaceful when she was asleep. Watching her curled on his bed made Drake realise how small she actually was, which was something he'd never noticed before because she was usually so... not larger-than-life, but strong. He couldn't say that Darla was a fragile sort of person, and maybe that was why he was fond of her, because he didn't have to handle her quite so carefully. Well, usually he didn't have to handle her carefully, yet seeing her asleep suddenly made him want to treat her as though she would shatter into millions of pieces if he even disturbed the mattress. Her jet black ringlets were spilled out across the sheets, more abundant and flyaway than ever before. Long lashes brushed her sunkissed cheeks, leading him to notice that time in the sun had brought out more of her freckles. In sleep her plump lips were gently parted, though thankfully she hadn't started drooling yet.

As soon a second they'd entered the room she'd all but collapsed onto the bed, and he was pretty sure she'd been asleep before her head hit the pillow. Drake had actually stood there for a good minute or two debating how he should approach the situation; part of him had wanted to carefully undress her like a doll and find her a shirt or something, because surely she needed pyjamas. Eventually he decided against it, not only because she was technically already in pyjamas for the most part (he'd gone to fetch her while she had been sleeping), but also because he didn't want her waking up in the morning without her clothes and get the wrong idea. The last thing he needed was Darla thinking he was some sort of creep.

Then again, he didn't really care what she thought, right? That would be dumb. Darla was cute, and she was occasionally funny, and she was tolerable, but even so she was surely still replaceable and that meant it didn't matter what she thought of him. Drake decided to go to sleep himself as soon as his thoughts began to wander down that path, because he hadn't faced whatever feelings he had for Darla and he was certainly not about to start.

* * *

"So what's this one for?" Drake asked, holding up a very small bottle containing blue liquid.

"It's still nail polish, you asked me the same question less than three minutes ago," Darla replied with a faint smile, carefully plucking one last hair from her freshly shaped eyebrows. Makeup wasn't something she had bothered with in a while, it was one of those things that had once seemed important and was now trivial. Still, the bag remained open on the dressing table (a desk dragged into the corner of the room with a bathroom mirror propped up against the wall) and every now and then she would allow herself a little bit, a lick of mascara here, one sparse coat of lipgloss there. It was comforting but soon it would all be gone.

"Huh. I like the thing you used to do with the little black flicks on your eyes. Made you look lIke a cat." Drake paused and gave her face a searching look, "Although I guess you still kind of look like a cat without it."

"That is perhaps the strangest attempt at a compliment I've ever heard," Darla admitted with a raised eyebrow, plucking the bottle of nail varnish from his hand and placing it gently back into the bag. Then she stood, stretching her arms above her head so that her white tank top rode up her just a little, revealing a strip of olive stomach between her denim shorts and the hem of the top.

"Didn't say it was a compliment," Drake rose too, almost as if he was just doing it to remind her of how much taller he was. Without warning he wrapped his arms around her waist and drew her in, resting his chin on her head. Silence. He felt her tense momentarily in his arms, heard her breathing become shallow just for a second or two, and then he moved back. Ignoring her searching, confused look, he smirked and headed for the door, "C'mon, we've got shit to do."

* * *

Drake had claimed that they'd had 'shit to do', and yet it was really only him. He'd gone out, off in a car to god-knows-where, and Darla had been left to aimlessly wander the halls alone. It was eerie to see the school so empty, so damaged. Colourful displays seemed even worse than they had when the corridors were still full of students, the odd discarded chair seemed like the most lonesome object imaginable, and-

As she rounded the corner Darla actually allowed a squeal to escape herself. She had assumed she would be able to walk alone, yet suddenly she was face to face with the big, dark eyes of Diana Ladris.

Diana and Darla were not friends. Not enemies by a long shot, but not friendship, even though they'd spent a decent amount of time together- before the FAYZ, at least. Perhaps there was an element of jealously between them, a rivalry, or maybe it was just the fact that whenever the two looked at one another it reminded them both of their own situation. Darla wasn't an idiot, she had come to the conclusion that being Caine's focus couldn't be a picnic all the time, and it was fairly clear that Diana didn't envy Darla's strange relationship with Drake either. It turned out that that relationship was exactly what she wanted to know about.

"Jesus, don't wet yourself," Diana arched an eyebrow, resting a hand on her hip.

"I'm not, you just scared me. God, why hasn't somebody put a bell on you?" Darla snapped, defensive because of her embarrassment at being so startled.

"Please, if anyone needs a bell it's Bug," Diana didn't stop to see if Darla even knowed who she was referring to, "Look, I just wanted to... You know, have a bit of girl talk." Her smile was pretty but Darla didn't trust it. Girls like Diana always had an ulterior motive, and how did Darla know? Well, because she was one of those girls herself.

"Girl talk." She echoed, tucking a black curl behind her ear and regarding Diana with suspicion, "You want to know if we like the same music? Need a nail polish recommendation?"

"No. I was thinking more along the lines of, well, Drake. How's that going?"

"Not sure what you mean," Darla furrowed her brow, folding her arms defensively over her chest, "He's hot. He's nice. He's smart. Oh, and he's also a sadist with a tentacle where his arm should be."

"Nice isn't really a word I'd ever use to describe Drake. I think you might be lying just a tad," Diana smirked, tossing her head to move her dark hair from her eyes. "I-"

"Look, Diana, I appreciate that you're bored or whatever but I don't really want to talk about this right now. I don't have any gossip or anything for you and I'm really tired so I'll see you around?" The words came very fast, and before Diana had the chance to reply Darla was off, flying down the corridor and whirling around to corner fast enough to deter the girl from following.

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**I'm sorry that this wasn't that great guys, I've been suffering from a mental block at the moment but I wanted to get something up so here we are! Should be moving onto the powerplant soon. :0**


	19. Chapter 19

"I think I'm going to be sick."

When Drake had invited her on the walk, Darla had been suspicious to say the least. Especially when he had claimed that he had a 'surprise' for her- when he'd insisted on heading away from the school towards a little bunch of trees on the grounds she had been almost certain that he'd finally had enough of her and was going to kill her. What awaited her just beyond the first tree was somehow worse and much better at the same time.

"Don't be such a baby, baby."

The corpse was fresh, that much was clear, because not all of the blood that stained the ground and the body was dried; against the girl's pale skin some blotches were still an angry crimson. Brown hair hung over the face, tangled and matted with blood and leaves, a hint that (along with the bruises on the wrists) there had been a struggle before the murder. Even with the face covered up Darla recognised exactly who it was she was looking at: Amber Hill. The girl had been there with Darla the day the adults disappeared, she had flown under the radar for quite some time, had miraculously survived the Thanksgiving battle by hiding out until the worst was over. Nobody would notice her absence, apart from perhaps one or two members of the little friendship group who still remained- the rest were either dead or had fled to Perdido Beach in the hopes that they'd fare better over there.

"When you said you'd done something for me, I thought you meant you'd carved our names into a tree."

"I can do that too," Drake drawled, leaning against a tree and admiring his handiwork. "Honestly, I thought you'd be happier."

"What am I meant to say? 'Wow Drake, thanks for brutally murdering a girl that I vaguely dislike, let's go back to our room and have sex'?" Darla cocked her head to the side, seeming genuinely confused about what he was hoping for.

"Not my original intention but hey, going back to the room never hurt," Drake flashed her the shark's grin and lazily kicked the corpse with the toe of his shoe. "You said you didn't like her. Originally I was gonna make it look like a suicide but I got carried away. Maybe we could do one together, make it look like-"

"No. Absolutely not. We aren't doing Heathers, Drake," Darla almost laughed. Almost. "Next thing you'll be asking me to help you take down Regina George."

He didn't get it and that was okay.

"You could at least pretend to be grateful. This took effort. The little bitch clawed me!" Drake protested jabbing his thumb at the faint red line running across his left cheek. Darla just stared at him, deadpan, and then rolled her eyes.

"Poor you." She said simply, without a trace of any real sympathy.

"Yeah, poor me," He agreed, slinging an arm around her shoulders that she didn't shrug off. They stood there, close beside one another, staring down at the corpse. It was one of those sights that Darla wished she'd never laid eyes on, and yet at the same time she couldn't tear her gaze away. Although they were only in silence fir about three minutes, it felt like an eternity before Drake spoke again. "We're going to the power plant soon."

"I know, because Caine's lost it," She glanced up at him, but he was staring straight ahead, not looking at her. There was a faint smirk playing about his lips.

"Yep. But there might be a fight, maybe, if Sam follows us up there. I hope he does. I didn't get a good enough chance to get to him at Thanksgiving," His lips curled momentarily into a snarl, he curled his whip arm without realising what he was doing. Then he frowned and finally looked down at her, eyes cold, "It's not going to be like that again. You're going to fire the fucking gun, okay? Because I'm not gonna come running to save you if you screw up."

"Charming." Darla replied bluntly, but as she turned her head away she nodded. "It's fine. It's not gonna be like that again." Maybe she wasn't doing it for him, maybe it was for herself. Maybe it was for her pride. Or maybe it really _was_ for him. Maybe it was for _his _pride. Without him pushing her into it, would she ever have learnt to fire a gun in the first place? If she'd stayed in town when they first went down, would she have even had a gun in the first place?

Yes, she realised, she probably would have. By FAYZ standards she was amongst the eldest, and despite the Beach generally being seen as the 'good guys', they still had guns. They were prepared. So yes, she probably would have had the gun. Although maybe she wouldn't have been so prepared to fire it.

It'd only take one shot, she thought, to take care of Drake. If she got it right, that is. She'd only have to pull that trigger once, feel her finger curl around it, apply pressure, and he'd be out of her life. No more threats, no more dead girls, no more whip hand.

No more kisses, no more jokes, no more feeling how bizarrely comforting it was to sleep beside him and know that there was probably nobody worse she needed to worry about. That was when it hit her: she didn't _want_ Drake to die. She didn't even want them to be apart. Darla broke herself from her train of thought, looked up at him, cocked her head to the side. Smiled, as though amused.

"You know what? Screw it. Let's go back to the room after all."

"Yeah?" Drake raised an eyebrow, trying to judge if she was being serious.

"Yeah. Y'know, in case we die when we go to the power plant."

"Live every day like it's your last?" He suggested, almost mocking.

"Yes," Darla agreed, as they began to walk, "Something like that."

* * *

**Hey! So I don't even know if anyone is still reading this, but I'm back. I'd love to know any preferences anyone has for what should happen next. If anyone's still reading, let me know!**


	20. Chapter 20

"I think we might have dented my wall."

"We? What's this we? I didn't do anything apart from lie there," Darla frowned, glancing up at him. She was still flat on her back, black curls tumbling out across the somewhat dirty sheets, covers pulled up and tucked neatly over her chest.

"Yeah, you're telling me," Drake teased with a roll of his eyes, although there was an edge of playfulness to what usually would have been a purely critical comment. "Bit boring. Well, until towards the end when you decided you wanted a go on top."

Her eyes widened and and colour crept across her freckled cheeks. Red, red like that lipstick she had that he liked. Red like blood. He'd been aiming to embarrass her, and it seemed that he'd been successful. Deciding he hadn't quite embarrassed he enough, he began to snake one hand across the small space between them, creeping two fingers towards the top of the duvet that covered her.

"I'm not actually tired, if you want to-" But he was cut off, and a flash of annoyances flared up in Drake's eyes. In Darla's too, probably. She was just getting him to be almost human, and here someone was coming along trying to ruin it all. Jerks. She'd almost forgotten that other people existed.

"Don't worry, I'll get it," She assured, slipping out from beneath the cover. As she trotted around the bed to fetch some clothes, feeling Drake's steely eyes boring into her back, she called out to whoever was at the door, "Just a second!" Her body hurt. She could ignore it. Just like she could ignore what she'd just done, even with Drake still in the bed only a few feet away from her. Really, she could just tell whoever was at the door to piss off. It wasn't Caine or Diana, as they'd have probably just pushed the door open, which meant that it was nobody particularly important and therefore she could afford to ignore them. Maybe she _wanted_ to speak to whoever was waiting. Maybe it was better than getting back into bed. But the thing was, it'd been what she'd wanted. It'd been good. It'd been everything she'd expected and more. So why did she feel so wrong about it, suddenly? Was it just that she was embarrassed that people would find out? Or was she only just beginning to really understand what had happened?

All of this contemplation only took a few moments, and soon Darla was pulling open the door. There was a kid there, small, freckled face and feathery hair. She recalled his nickname being Bug, but she'd forgotten the story behind it.

"What?" She demanded, trying to put on her most snappy, intimidating voice in the hopes that it'd shorten the encounter.

"Caine wants to talk,'' Bug paused, eyes on Darla but, she noticed, not focused on her face. When she self consciously crossed her arms over her chest, he looked up and continued, "To Drake. Not you."

"Last time I checked, this was my room?" Darla pointed out with her eyebrows raised, "Go check his."

"Oh, I know he's in here. I think everyone in the building does." A sly smirk crossed the kid's features. "Probably the kids in Perdido Beach, too."

Darla's expression darkened and she tilted her head to the side, but the irritated expression melted away to reveal a smile that was too sickly sweet to be genuine.

"You know, he's still in the bed right now." She whispered, leaning down, "So, if I were you, I'd watch how you're talking to me. He's already annoyed that you interrupted. Don't make it worse."

If Bug was scared at all, it didn't really show, but he cast an uneasy glance over the girl's shoulder as if expecting to see Drake right there, with that awful arm of his and that shark's smile. Darla wasn't Diana. Nobody messed with Diana, everyone knew better, but Darla was different. The girl didn't share all of the qualities that made Diana who she was. Even without Caine, Diana was powerful; it just helped having him as a backup threat. Nobody was really sure whether Drake was Darla's backup threat or not. Perhaps they'd begin to tread more carefully.

"Can you just get him?" Bug demanded, but before he melted away and blended into the background (a trick Darla still marvelled at), he added a sullen, "Please."

Once she'd heard the sound of footsteps retreating, Darla pulled the door shut and turned around to meet Drake's expectant gaze. After one moment of weakness where she almost didn't mention Caine, almost just trotted back over, she let her shoulders sag and flashed a sheepish smile.

"Sorry, big boy. Bigger boy wants you." She explained, bending to retrieve his shirt from the floor and tossing it to him. She wouldn't watch him struggle to put it on with only one hand- there was a point where it stopped being funny and just became a little awkward. They didn't really make clothes to accommodate whip arms, she supposed.

"Fuck him,'' Drake grumbled, yet he was already getting up and getting dressed. He still wasn't in a position to irritate Caine, even with Caine's weakened state. Not yet. Soon.

"So you're cheating on me now?" Came her weak attempt at a teasing reply. If she was being honest, she wished he didn't have to go so soon. Going meant he'd be off to the power plant, which meant possible violence, which meant him losing control, and it wasn't something she wanted to witness.

"Something like that." He shrugged, not really the type to joke back.

They spent the next few moments in silence, as he finished getting dressed and she stood picking at her nails, nonchalant. It was only when she felt his arms around her body that she looked up, taking by surprise.

"Don't die." Drake mumbled, and to Darla, that was almost equivalent to an 'I love you'. It was a start. Even though he continued and added in a comment to make it seem less worried, it was still progress. "It'll be really embarrassing if you die, I literally just told Soren you were tough."

"I'll try my best. You too. Because when it's over, I'm ready for round two." Darla joked, pulling back when he did.

"Round seven, you mean." With a wink he was gone, and she was watching the door creak closed behind him.

And then she went for a shower.

**Hi! I'm so happy you're all still reading, it's great to see multiple reviews, they really do motivate me to get new chapters out!**

**P.S. I'm taking all of the suggestions into account. Just because they aren't in this chapter or any of the Ines immediately following doesn't mean they aren't coming. ;)**


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